


An Exceptional Night in the Lives of Two Very Good Friends

by KanarandTarkaleanTea



Series: Perspective Trinity [3]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Finding Love, M/M, Smut, puzzle pieces, tooth-rotting-sweetness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 14:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KanarandTarkaleanTea/pseuds/KanarandTarkaleanTea
Summary: Final part of the "perspectives" trilogy. Attempt at "joint-perspective" mostly just an excuse for smut and unrepentant sentimental romance.





	An Exceptional Night in the Lives of Two Very Good Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Again, not edited, so I hope it's not too ridden with typos so as to be distracting. Just need to force myself to write and not edit myself into corners as much. Thanks to everyone who has read the other two pieces in this trilogy and special love to all who commented. <3

The electric crackle of desire speeds between their intent gazes, not wholly unlike that spark of challenge that connects them when they’re in an especially intense argument. They discard their shoes, then clothes. Tentative hands grow bolder. Mouths exchange heartfelt endearments, joyful profanities, and the tastes of each other. They recline on the bed, sharing breath and heat.

Garak cuts off the part of his mind that is telling him to chronicle all the ways he could incapacitate his companion. In this situation, it is an unworthy mental exercise. It is not welcome here.

Julian makes a concerted effort not to mentally juggle probabilities or attempt to analyze responses and assess. He has no time for such speculation.

It’s been a while since Garak has been physically intimate with someone. Far longer since he’s been emotionally intimate — an existence filled with loss and punishment stretching the years into a painful void. His instincts demand he remain distant. Self-preservation dictates that he give only so much of himself. To remain aloof. Fill the created space with witty words or mildly stinging insults. He fights this compunction. He allows himself to put aside a lifetime’s worth of training and conditioning to simply experience the joy of being with someone he truly cares about.

It’s been a while since Julian has been physically intimate with someone. And while he considers himself emotionally intimate with his friends, especially Jadzia and Miles, the fact that he feels confident that Elim is now opening up to him gives him a thrill of deep connection that so often is lacking in his life. He doesn't worry. Doesn't collect data. He simply experiences.

Garak does NOT think about how easy it would be to torture a human male, with their non-retractable genitalia. Instead, he thinks about how quickly one could get them off, and how he’s going to have to keep a sharp eye on his lover to make sure he doesn’t come too soon. He runs the flat of his palm down the shaft, and marvels at a prick that isn’t naturally slick, but dry and smooth like wind-swept desert sand. He circles his thumb around the head and a little drop of moisture emerges. It is less viscous that Cardassian lubrication, clear instead of cloudy grey. He laps it from the tip of his thumb and enjoys the groan the action pulls from Julian.

Julian allows himself a moment to curse the fact that Elim’s damned Cardassian evasiveness, it seems, carries over into the bedroom. He himself has been hard since before he’d even sat in Elim’s lap, but the other man’s level of arousal is mostly a mystery due to internal genitalia. He runs his fingers down the slit and he can’t help but mentally chronical that it is nothing like a labia. It is ridged and closed tightly, though he's pleased to feel wetness seeping between the lips. He wants to see him, but how can he get his lover to evert? He smiles to himself, slinking down and running his tongue along the seam. There isn't a species he's met — at least not ones that engage in partnered sex — that doesn't enjoy oral stimulation. When he feels the tip of Elim's penis poke out, he is satisfied that Cardassians are no exception.

After the initial shock and trepidation, Garak forces himself to enjoy receiving the pleasure his lover is giving him. The part of himself that is always on the look out for betrayal and danger has difficulty allowing such acceptance, though, so before he allows his prick to come out all the way, he reverses their positions. Garak isn't used to taking such a length down his throat, especially after years of his skills rusting from disuse. Still, by the way Julian's legs start to shake and the pulsing of slender hips, he supposes he hasn't lost all of his skill. As he swallows around Julian's prick, he runs a couple of fingers within the inside of his sheath, gathering enough lubricant that he speculates an intruding digit or two might be well received… ha… so to speak.

"Oh," Julian moans when Elim's fingertip circles and then cautiously presses in. It's been a particularly long while since he's indulged in this specific type of simulation, and never with someone he’s been this tied up about. He focuses on relaxing, which is exceptionally hard with his cock still in Elim's mouth, but soon the single digit is joined by another, then they're crossing, scissoring… a veritable sign-language of pleasure. He allows himself the mind-spinning distractions of quadratic equations and running probabilities of cure rates for that pesky upper-respiratory Bolian flu. He doesn’t want this to be over too soon.

"Are you ready, my dear?" Garak asks. His Julian is more beautiful than he's ever seen him; the usually laser-scalpel-sharp eyes are hazed over, the concentration lines creasing his forehead different than the ones he gets when his mind is spinning through his research. His lover’s whispered “yes” strikes him to his core and he can no longer resist the urge to evert. Julian looks down and his eyes go wide, but he just spreads his legs and gives a nod. Garak enters slowly, ready to stop if Julian indicates, but there is no hesitation, and soon he is sheath-deep.

Feeling Elim inside him is short-circuiting; all extraneous thought fizzling out as his concentration focuses on the physical sensations of their joining. Julian fights the urge to close his eyes because he doesn’t want to miss the shifting expressions on Elim’s face. He has seen passion on his lover’s face before, but it’s usually been the passion of rage or despair. Now, his countenance is equally as intense as during those less-pleasant experiences, but the underlying emotions seem to fit more in the realm of awe and… he thinks (hopes!) love.

Time, in its infinite malleability, both speeds by and stands still. 

Before long, toes curl, and then Suddenly! It's as through the wormhole has somehow relocated to behind their respective eyelids. Colors and lights spiral in and out of existence in time with the pulsing pleasure of their bodies.

It's good. So good.

Afterwards, they lie on their sides facing each other and there is no awkwardness. Any nervousness either of them had about whether they should or should not have taken this step in their relationship has disappeared. Any fear that sex has destroyed anything between them is replaced with the relief that it hasn't. They breathe more easily now that they know that something that could have gone badly hasn't, and instead of a new distance between them there is now a new closeness.

There are kisses exchanged, but not the fiery kisses that precede and accompany delicious, passionate sex. These are soft, satiated kisses. The nudge of noses. The novel feeling of breathing in while your partner is breathing out and filling yourself with atoms and molecules that were only a moment ago theirs.

Julian wants to say it so badly. Wants to tell Elim that he loves him. Has loved him for longer than even he thinks he consciously knew himself. But even with this wonderful new closeness, a part of him is still scared. What if Elim thinks he's just saying it as some kind of post-coital obligation? Or worse, that he's just saying it to fill the wordless void that has fallen between them? He feels his mind start to spin, but a look into Elim’s stunning blue eyes stutters his breath. Instead, he places his hand over the other man's heart and offers a smile.

Garak wants to say it so badly. Wants to tell Julian that he loves him. Has loved him for longer than even he thinks he consciously knew himself. But even with this wonderful new closeness, a part of him is still scared. A lifetime of caution doesn't disappear in a moment. He doesn't want to scare the younger man away. A man who has his whole life ahead of him, and who could do better than an aging tailor-former- spy who has so very little to offer. But he stops his mind’s predictions of doom, and instead, he places his hand over the back of Julian's where the sweet, sentimental young man has placed it, resting on the chest scales that inadequately shield his heart.

They smile at each other, silent, because right now their differences mean far less than the intimacy they have just shared and the quiet, peaceful moment they are now currently enjoying. There will certainly be moments where old thought patterns creep up — where calculating self-preservation and whizzing thoughts create conflict, or put a distance between them. But like key to lock, like antidote to poison, they fit together. Puzzle pieces finally joined.

**Author's Note:**

> (Happy birthday to Andrew J. Robinson, wherever you are!)


End file.
